


A Fleeting Memory

by avintageoilpaintingofyou



Category: The Fever Code, the maze runner
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Cuddling, F/M, Working My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avintageoilpaintingofyou/pseuds/avintageoilpaintingofyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the last night that they'll remember everything.</p>
<p>Slight AU where they have the Swipe procedure at the same time, and Teresa can really not handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fleeting Memory

They knew this was going to happen.

 

They knew from the beginning.

 

But the mere fact that the Swipe was being performed on both of them tomorrow made pure terror run through their veins.

            They knew WICKED was good. They knew what they were doing would save the human race in the long run. All they thought about was everyone else, all they could _think_ about was everyone else. All the subjects in the Maze, all the people outside, all the people in WICKED counting on them. They never had time to think for themselves.

            Today was their last day, and that made Teresa walls crumble.

            She had been constructing them oh so carefully for so long, making sure they were sustainable for any and every situation. But the mere thought of forgetting Thomas, _her best friend,_ to look him in the eyes and think of him as a complete stranger, terrified her.

            When they retrieved the news years before neither said a word. Not trusting their voices. It was only the next day when Thomas murmured an inside joke to Teresa, she laughed and when the silence broke they were okay. At least for the moment.

 

They now walked through the stainless shiny corridors, eyes straight ahead. Not even bothering to glance at each other in concern. It was too painful. The thought still plaguing their minds: the procedure was tomorrow, and they won’t remember _anything._

            The terror still fresh, the wound was still bleeding; the knife stabbed in their hearts and it’s as if WICKED twisted it.

            Without looking to her Thomas grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand so hard a pulse of pain rushed in her hand. Though she didn’t pull away. She was too deep in thought, too consumed with her mind to be bothered with mere distractions.

            _Do you wanna crash with me tonight?_ Thomas asked telepathically. She felt him look over to her, but she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. _Okay,_ she answered. Neither of them trusted themselves to speak. Knowing if they did they would break down, never being able to recover.

            They turned right, trekking down another corridor. The fluorescent lights buzzed as they passed. Aside from their feet stepping quietly along the cement floor that was the only sound that filled the silence. They made another right.

            Two doors were screwed into the wall, a circular window in each one. It reminded Teresa of a prison more than anything else. The one on the left was her room, and the other on the right was Thomas’. They went to the right.

            When the door shut behind him she looked into the room to find it bare. There was nothing on the white walls. A lone twin size bed shoved into a corner and a white dresser on the other side of the room. It suddenly hit her how WICKED ripped any possibility of a normal life. No pictures, the room was bland. Teresa glanced at Tom since the first time they announced the procedure was being performed the next day.

            Tears welled up in her eyes and she screamed. It was a sad, sorrow-filled scream filled with pain and fear. She crumpled to the ground, hiding her face in her hands, tearing at her hair, and continued to release piercing cries. She was so terrified, and after who knows how long she began to show it.

            Thomas kneeled down and wrapped his arms around her trembling form. She continued to scream in his chest, saying it was unjust. Asking the questions he could never answer. “Why are they doing this to us?” she wailed, “What did we do to deserve this?”

            Thomas was crying now too, terrified as much as she was. “I-I don’t know,” he whimpered as he clutched Teresa tightly to him.

            She was still in hysterics. Suddenly she began to strike his chest with her fists, sobbing and asking over and over again: “Why? _Why_? WHY US?!”

            He just shook his head and spoke softly in her shoulder as she continued to wail, his voice trembling, “I’m here. I’ve got you, I’m here,” softly rocking them back and forth. Speaking words was a lot more effective on Teresa then just sending them in her mind. Knowing that saying ‘it’s okay’ will only make it worse. You say that in those types of situations were it _can_ get better, but they were too smart for their own good. It will never be okay again.

            Gradually his words got through to her and she stopped hitting his chest and suddenly clung to him, empty of all the fire that once raged within her. Her hands moved to his back as she pulled herself toward him, being as close as they possibly could. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and nuzzled in the crook of his neck, tears staining both their clothes.

            Their breathing gradually regulated and they pulled themselves up to their feet. Their moment of weakness was gone. They had their time. Though they decided to prolong it just a little while longer.

            He guided her to his bed. The worn mattress squeaking under both their weight as they sat down side by side. Their backs against the wall, hands intertwined. They glanced at each other’s tearstained face, their eyes were bloodshot and their cheeks were red, nose pink. Thomas took a deep breath and forced a ghost of a smile to trace his lips.

            _We should get some rest,_ his eyes never leaving Teresa’s. She took a shaky breath, knowing that in twenty-four hours saying this wouldn’t matter, but she whispered in his mind, _I love you, Tom_.

            A real smile tugged at his lips this time as tears welled up in his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying not to sob, but his throat clenched in protest. He let it go, and the next one and the next one. His forehead rested against her shoulder. His body racking with sobs. “Thomas,” she whispered hopelessly. Her hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangled in it as she held him close. Then he lifted his head and his eyes met hers. Tears streaked down his face and some clung to his eyelashes. Teresa’s hands then slid down to his face. Smearing some of the tears away.

            He looked at her in awe as he gripped her hand. Tears trickling down his face and sliding down his neck. He licked his lips, tasting of salt. He took a deep breath again and pressed a trembling kiss on her forehead. “I love you, Teresa,” he whispered as softly as he could, causing Teresa to strain her ears. He then wrapped his arms tightly around her. The breakdown they endeavored made them feel drained, weak. Though they didn’t want to go to sleep.

            His face rested on her neck, his lips pressing against her skin ever so slightly. “Thomas,” she whispered again, her lip quivering. He held her close, so tight, that it was almost hard for her to breath. She squeezed her eyes shut.

            They next thing they knew they were laying down. Thomas’ face still buried in her neck, their bodies under his comforter. Their breathing slowed.

_Just go to sleep,_ he whispered softly in her head, _I’ll see you tomorrow._

**Author's Note:**

> Initially a one-shot though I might add more but I'm not sure yet. Please tell me in the comments!


End file.
